


My Skeleton Hurts

by HiyaDude



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Mild Gore, Other, Resets, Underage Kissing, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:37:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5823637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiyaDude/pseuds/HiyaDude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You could never hate him, not really. But he could certainly hate you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Skeleton Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Frisk has no gender in this, and they are also underage. Now if you got a problem with that, leaaaave now and forever hold your peace, I am aware that this is offensive to some, and I haven't posted in the Undertale fandom before so I have no idea how you guys will react. Hate it, leave. Like it, leave a kudo! :D

“Sans,” you say, twirling your knife absentmindedly while dodging another bone aimed at your feet. You’ve been through these attacks over 74 times so far, and you know how to avoid almost every bone and blast with frightening precision. “Do you ever wonder why we keep ending up like this?”

Sans is breathing hard, glaring at you with one bright blazing eye. He laughs, not kindly though. “Maybe it has something to do with you being a murdering psychopath that won’t quit no matter how many times I kill you.”

You frown, rolling your eyes at yet another predictable answer. “Oh please, Sans, spare me the ‘You’re a murderer’ guilt trip. It’s getting repetitive, and it's not as if you're hands are clean either, remember the " _You’d be dead where you stand.’_  thing _?_ ” I have to admit, that hurt quite a bit. I had thought we were friends, Sans, and I hadn’t even killed anyone that time around.” you side-step another bone. “So how many children have _you actually_ killed before me coming here? ”

You laugh when his attacks get more violent, ”Shut up, brat, I’m not doing this with you. You’re a freak and that’s the end of it.” A bone barely brushes past your nose as you make a quick turn to the side to avoid being hit.

 

You scoff at the skeleton, “Wow, pot calling the kettle black, aren’t you? So high and mighty when it comes to you're own kind, but when a human fights back and actually _kills_ one of you, ‘Ohhh no, what a cruel ruthless killer.’!”

Sans scoffs, “Oh really, fighting back? Is deliberately seeking out every monster in the underground really just _fighting back_!?”

  
“Now San’s. How would you know that?” You dash towards the skeleton, and then back off a step when a laser canon looms threateningly overhead. “Were you watching me?”

You step closer to Sans, ducking when a burst of light canon flies over your head, until you're just standing in front of him.

“Sans, that’s really not fair, is it? Acting all noble, the whole _“Someone has to stop you!”_ kind of shindig is getting weak. If what _I’ve_ been doing is wrong, then why didn’t _you_ try and stop me before?”

  
Sans is visibly sweating, beads are forming on the ivory surface of his skull, only to be mopped away by an over sized sleeve that slips down loosely on his skeletal arm.

He laughs, putting his hand back into his pocket, “You really want to know?”

You tilt your head, curiously waiting for an answer.

The answer comes in the form of a bone going straight through your chest and getting lodged someplace between your heart and lungs.

You wheeze out a breathless laugh, “I thought so.” before returning to that pitch black room with the stark white glow informing you of the ‘Game Over.’ and ‘Stay determined, Frisk!’

You smile and load the save file again.

“That hurt, Sans.” you say when you are in front of him again. Sans shrugs his hoodie clad shoulder and stares at you. He knows how many times you’ve died, but he doesn’t remember the fights.

You yawn loudly, suddenly tired. Dying and coming back to life was a taxing thing to do, if not physically, then mentally. You needed a break.

You walk away from Sans, only to be grabbed from behind, arms being painfully crushed by an iron tight hold. “Just where do you think you're going, brat?” you feel the chilled growl against your neck, feel the razor teeth usually hidden by a permanent smile open up to drag sharply across your neck in an unspoken threat. It’s enough to sting, and yet he does not yet initiate a battle sequence.

You tilt your head back on his shoulder to stare at him. Up close, the blackened pits of his eye sockets are still impossible to see into. The only light is the single glowing blue eye. “I was going to go take a nap, Sans. I’m tired, aren’t you?” you blink innocently at him. “We used to take naps together all the time, remember?” the hold on you gets tighter, a rib threatens to crack under the pressure.

You wheeze out another laugh, “Of course you don’t. Not really. You used to pick me up like this too, do you remember that? Only...it wasn’t quite this.” you struggle to keep talking as your rib finally snaps and presses into your lung, “...rough.”

He drops you with a suddenness that makes it impossible for you to catch yourself. You fall face first onto the hard marble floor, blood spurting from a newly broken nose and split lip. The fall pushes the rib firmly into your lung and you can’t help but cough up the blood filling it.

You're done talking. Now you just want the pain to stop. You want to die. You want to die to make the pain go away. You flip yourself over slowly, and stare up at Sans. He stands over you, hands still in his pockets, and permanent smile still in place.

Blood is flowing non-stop, you’re drowning in it. Everything is agony, every breath is nothing but gurgles of blood

“It hurts...Sans.” you reach out for the hand that you know won’t meet yours, but you try anyway.

When everything blurs into darkness, you spend more time looking at the ‘Game Over’ screen than you’d like to admit.

When you reload the save point, you don’t move. You wait for him, and when he does come, you fight him with all you have.You ignore his repetitive dialogue, ignore the offer of friendship you had been stupid enough to accept before, and you fight and fight hard. When the part you were waiting for finally arrives, you move silently towards his sleeping upright form.

His eye sockets are curiously closed and his breathing is soft. You know he’s awake. You know, and yet it doesn’t stop you from doing what you know he will kill you for.

You lean forward and press a kiss onto those sharp teeth, hands grabbing onto the front of his baggy hoodie that hung loosely off of his skeletal body. You don’t jump when a cold thin hand shoots up to clench around your wrist. You do lean away however, and you watch each other for a moment.

There is silence.

 

Sans doesn’t have a changing expression, so you don’t know what he’s thinking. You just know that he doesn’t hesitate to summon up a blaster to burn you up into a little crispy pile of ashes. You manage to get one last kiss in before it goes off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so tired. Sleepy times now. Tell me if you want me to continue, because for now, this stays a one-shot until I work something plot-wise out. If you see a spelling mistake, be a saint a point it out please. I'm running on fumes right now.


End file.
